Poems (David)/The Castaways
As she braved the stormy wind's fiercest spite.—
With closed reef fore, and storm stay sail,
She flew before the wild and angry gale!
The winds changed, from the south it blew,
And each instant in fury the hurricane grew;—
Onward then came a huge mountain wave,
Sweeping five of the seamen to their grave!—
And at the same moment the rushing blast
Carried before it the tall main mast.
"Quick! quick! all hands" cried Captain Grey
"Yon broken main mast at once cut away."
Then a sad cry reached them from down below
As the stout ship began to reel to and fro;
And her timbers started with the shock.
Again there came a ringing shriek,
With the dreadful cry "She has sprung a leak!"
The night has fled, and passed away
But the "Amphitrite" almost a wreck now lay.
By her heavy roll on the oceans' swell,
She soon must sink they knew full well.
The boats were fast lowered o'er her side,
The seamen now with many a sigh,
Prepared with heavy hearts to quit
Their noble and their gallant ship!
Now the long boat is by her side
And "we wait for you" an old sailor cried,
"Quick, ere we cut the ropes away!"
"No, no, my lads" cried Captain Grey,
"By my gallant ship I must stay,
Nought shall sever my bark and me
But the wild and foaming sea.
My painful duty bids me to stay,
May the good God speed ye on your way!"
Tears now filled the poor boys' dark eyes,
And with an imploring voice he cried
"Leave, oh! leave the ship dear Captain Grey,
As time cannot admit of further delay.
In the name of your friends I entreat you to fly,
As to stay is madness!—It is but to die!"
"I'll trust to providence, whate'er be my fate;
Oh! look to thyself boy, ere 'tis too late!"
"No, no, dear captain, that must not be,
I would rather live and die with thee."
And then springing to the vessel's side,
Took up an axe, the ropes to divide,—
One moment, and from the battered wreck,
The last of the remaining boats was swept.
Alone on the wide and pathless deep,
Where the albatross its lone watch doth keep,
The flying fish dart through the ocean's spray;
Alone on the deep were the castaways!
From morn to night they strained their eyes,
But no passing ship could they descry,
Or sunny isle, where palms that proudly waved,
Gave rise to hope of their being saved!—
Suddenly Horace one fine morning cried
"Can you see an island on our starboard side?"
And there above the rippling waves,
Wrapt in a veil of golden haze,
A bright and lovely island lay,
Which seemed to smile on the new-born day,
While its palms and bread-fruit trees,
Seemed gracefully waving in the morning breeze.
But o'er it still the mystic haze
Like a beauteous golden glory laid.
And the island which was so bright and fair,
Appeared to tremble in the air!—
Denser, and denser, grew the brilliant veil,
Until the fairy vision had died away.
Drifting, still drifting, on the wide and trackless sea,
Turning their eyes in vain to windward or lee,
And still no sign the lonely ocean bore,
Of a saving ship, or a friendly shore.
To the north and south, east and west,
They sought in vain for a place of rest!
One evening as he leant o'er the vessel's side
He saw a palm branch floating with the tide,
And as he turned to call on Captain Grey
He saw in the distance, some miles away,
A line to the leeward, long and white,
In full relief 'gainst the fading twilight.—
Another mirage it could not be,
As the white line he could plainly see
Unchanged, remaining still upon the deep.
He then roused the captain from his sleep,
And pointed to the strange white line
That lay in the distance, long and fine.
"Ah! Horace, dear boy," cried Captain Grey,
"Yon narrow white line marks the spray
That breaks upon some rock, or coral reef,
Which marks some island of this lonely deep."
Onward drifted the lone "Amphitrite,"
The spray falling in drops of pearly white;—
On to the coral reef the ship was dash'd,
Then there came a loud and fearful crash!—
"Spring, Horace, oh! spring!" cried Captain Grey,
"Our good ship is sinking fast away!"
In an instant, and from the parting wreck,
Poor Horace and the captain quickly leapt.—
Safely by them the shore was reached,
And with heart-felt thanks they knelt on the beach!
"Dear boy, it is time to leave the shore;
And let us try this island to explore."—
After a little while, off they went
On their adventure anxious and intent;
Strolling along by a murmuring stream,
Each wondering at the fair lovely scene,—
Thinking no footstep had e'er trod before
This beauteous island or its glorious shore!
And often turning to have a scan
At the charming scene on either hand,
On went the thoughtful and lone castaways,
Thro' the verdant groves pursuing their way,
Till near a clump of bread-fruit trees
A ruined cottage there they did see!
O'er it the orchids gracefully bent and twined,
A vine around it also flourished and climbed.—
Deserted and sad, there the cottage lay,
Now left and abandoned by time to decay!
Not even a trace could there be seen
Of what the owners once had been,
Or the land from whence they came,—
Nor even a mark or trace of name!
THE CASTAWAYS.
A FAIR boy sat upon the rocky shore,
Watching the wild birds to their sea nest soar;
So tall he was, and lithe, and strong of mien,
Though scarce fourteen summer suns he had seen,
His brow was open and it spoke of truth
With all the mantling flush and fire of youth!
His hair was full dark as the ravens' wing,
With that Grecian face of which poets sing;—
His large hazel eyes would flash like a fire,
When fanned into flame by joy or by ire!—
And yet when grief would obscure their bright blaze,
A mournful sadness o'ershadowed their gaze;—
A fond heart more true there never could be
Than that of the young and brave Horace Lee!
Alone he sat, till the fast setting sun,
With purple and gold its course it had run.
At length he cried out in a rapturous voice,
"O! ocean to thee I now give my choice!
Upon thee I will live, thou restless wave,
For thou art my home and may be my grave.
I long to sail over the wide spreading sea,
Oh! how my heart pines for those fairy lands,
Where the palm trees wave over shell strewn sands.
And over those bright and all glorious seas,
Sweep the soft breath of the sweet citron trees."
Thus he sat musing till evening's cool shades,
Had settled on the calm rippling waves;—
And finding he could no longer stay
Homeward he bent his solitary way.
But alas! too late, as the rising tide,
Was beating on the headland's rocky side.
A cry of fear started from his lips,
Seeing the waves fast washing o'er the cliffs.
He paused a moment and looked so grave,
With a brighter face he then exclaimed,
"There is yet a path that I can gain?"—
Then swiftly running along the beach,
The rocky path he soon had reached.
Then up sprang he and by the rock so steep,
He passed one huge stone falling to the deep,
Holds fast his steps for one short moment's stay,
Ere yet he hastened on his homeward way.
Watching the wild birds to their sea nest soar;
So tall he was, and lithe, and strong of mien,
Though scarce fourteen summer suns he had seen,
His brow was open and it spoke of truth
With all the mantling flush and fire of youth!
His hair was full dark as the ravens' wing,
With that Grecian face of which poets sing;—
His large hazel eyes would flash like a fire,
When fanned into flame by joy or by ire!—
And yet when grief would obscure their bright blaze,
A mournful sadness o'ershadowed their gaze;—
A fond heart more true there never could be
Than that of the young and brave Horace Lee!
Alone he sat, till the fast setting sun,
With purple and gold its course it had run.
At length he cried out in a rapturous voice,
"O! ocean to thee I now give my choice!
Upon thee I will live, thou restless wave,
For thou art my home and may be my grave.
I long to sail over the wide spreading sea,
Oh! how my heart pines for those fairy lands,
Where the palm trees wave over shell strewn sands.
And over those bright and all glorious seas,
Sweep the soft breath of the sweet citron trees."
Thus he sat musing till evening's cool shades,
Had settled on the calm rippling waves;—
And finding he could no longer stay
Homeward he bent his solitary way.
But alas! too late, as the rising tide,
Was beating on the headland's rocky side.
A cry of fear started from his lips,
Seeing the waves fast washing o'er the cliffs.
He paused a moment and looked so grave,
With a brighter face he then exclaimed,
"There is yet a path that I can gain?"—
Then swiftly running along the beach,
The rocky path he soon had reached.
Then up sprang he and by the rock so steep,
He passed one huge stone falling to the deep,
Holds fast his steps for one short moment's stay,
Ere yet he hastened on his homeward way.
'Tis evening, and the silver moon's pale beam,
In one bright light his small cottage did seem
To bathe, as with her lovely silver sheen
She lightens up the starry jessamine,
And gently thro' the lattice her soft ray
Falls upon the couch where a mother lay!
How soft her look! how sweet her smile!—
Though the hand of Time has been busy there:—
Had furrowed her cheek and silvered her hair.
"Would that I could be like the wild sea-gull,
That rests and dives round the good ships' hull;
A life of wild adventure is the life for me,
Let me, dear mother, let me go to sea?"
"Horace," said his mother, "can this be thy wish?
Would ye my child mar thy fond mother's bliss?
Thy father's loved form now lies in the sea,
Oh! Horace, my own, thy fate this may be!
In my thoughts, yes, and oft in my dreams,
Thou, my dearest child would ever seem
To sink beneath the oceans' depths.
Or from the storm tossed ship away be swept!"
"Mother!" he said, "on a far distant land,
Fond mem'ry will cling to thee, heart and hand,
As if I sat, dear one, by thy side,
And no broad ocean did us two divide."
I did hope that thou wouldst with me have staid,
And not as a wild bird thus fly away.
Although it is a bitter trial for me,
For thy good perhaps it yet may be!
Though my heart bids thee stay, I say to thee
May God bless and watch o'er you, when at sea!"
In another instant, and Horace stood alone
By the open window, while his mother's tones
Seemed yet to ring upon his ear,
And down his cheeks, there coursed a tear.
Ah! little did he think those words would rise
When far from home beneath unfriendly skies,
With some lone shipmate on the parting deck
Of the fast sinking and abandoned wreck!—
But a short time, and he stood on the shore,
And heard the sullen ocean's restless roar,
And watched in silence the glittering foam,
That soon alone would be his home!
But a ship was at anchor in the bay,
As graceful she seemed as an ocean fay.
From her sweeping masts to lengthy hull,
She appeared as swift as the wild sea gull,
Light as they were, but lighter far,
Were her slight and tapering set of spars,
And such was the graceful "Amphitrite,"—
She came from the land of the "stars and stripes,"
But by the ever varying chance of war,
Now the English flag at her mast she bore.
As there he stood, upon the lonely strand
He felt the loved grasp of his mother's hand,
And gazed into her large tearful eyes;—
He turned and heaved a long drawn sigh.—
An instant—and then it passed away,
Like a rain cloud on a fair summer's day.
A boat was seen on the dancing foam,
One loving look! and the deep was his home!
From the bay now glides the "Amphitrite"
With a fine breeze swelling her sails so white.
"This" cried Horace "is the life for me!
A blue sky above, and the wide open sea
Ah! now for the fair Pacific waves
Where ocean murmurs in the coral caves;
And the beauteous fairy islands lie
Like ocean gems 'neath the sweet summer sky.
When the soft tropic breezes so gently sweep
O'er islands unknown to human feet."
On the ship flew with her well filled sails,
Swelling before the light and favouring gale.
Madeira, the line, and Rio Janeiro were past,
And the cape of Storms rounded at last.
One night a fierce gale swept o'er the deep,
And seemed to raise the ocean from its sleep.
Wildly the angry and fierce billows rolled,
While the winds swept onward to the pole.
But onward sped the gallant "Amphitrite"In one bright light his small cottage did seem
To bathe, as with her lovely silver sheen
She lightens up the starry jessamine,
And gently thro' the lattice her soft ray
Falls upon the couch where a mother lay!
How soft her look! how sweet her smile!—
Though the hand of Time has been busy there:—
Had furrowed her cheek and silvered her hair.
"Would that I could be like the wild sea-gull,
That rests and dives round the good ships' hull;
A life of wild adventure is the life for me,
Let me, dear mother, let me go to sea?"
"Horace," said his mother, "can this be thy wish?
Would ye my child mar thy fond mother's bliss?
Thy father's loved form now lies in the sea,
Oh! Horace, my own, thy fate this may be!
In my thoughts, yes, and oft in my dreams,
Thou, my dearest child would ever seem
To sink beneath the oceans' depths.
Or from the storm tossed ship away be swept!"
"Mother!" he said, "on a far distant land,
Fond mem'ry will cling to thee, heart and hand,
As if I sat, dear one, by thy side,
And no broad ocean did us two divide."
I did hope that thou wouldst with me have staid,
And not as a wild bird thus fly away.
Although it is a bitter trial for me,
For thy good perhaps it yet may be!
Though my heart bids thee stay, I say to thee
May God bless and watch o'er you, when at sea!"
In another instant, and Horace stood alone
By the open window, while his mother's tones
Seemed yet to ring upon his ear,
And down his cheeks, there coursed a tear.
Ah! little did he think those words would rise
When far from home beneath unfriendly skies,
With some lone shipmate on the parting deck
Of the fast sinking and abandoned wreck!—
But a short time, and he stood on the shore,
And heard the sullen ocean's restless roar,
And watched in silence the glittering foam,
That soon alone would be his home!
But a ship was at anchor in the bay,
As graceful she seemed as an ocean fay.
From her sweeping masts to lengthy hull,
She appeared as swift as the wild sea gull,
Light as they were, but lighter far,
Were her slight and tapering set of spars,
And such was the graceful "Amphitrite,"—
She came from the land of the "stars and stripes,"
But by the ever varying chance of war,
Now the English flag at her mast she bore.
As there he stood, upon the lonely strand
He felt the loved grasp of his mother's hand,
And gazed into her large tearful eyes;—
He turned and heaved a long drawn sigh.—
An instant—and then it passed away,
Like a rain cloud on a fair summer's day.
A boat was seen on the dancing foam,
One loving look! and the deep was his home!
From the bay now glides the "Amphitrite"
With a fine breeze swelling her sails so white.
"This" cried Horace "is the life for me!
A blue sky above, and the wide open sea
Ah! now for the fair Pacific waves
Where ocean murmurs in the coral caves;
And the beauteous fairy islands lie
Like ocean gems 'neath the sweet summer sky.
When the soft tropic breezes so gently sweep
O'er islands unknown to human feet."
On the ship flew with her well filled sails,
Swelling before the light and favouring gale.
Madeira, the line, and Rio Janeiro were past,
And the cape of Storms rounded at last.
One night a fierce gale swept o'er the deep,
And seemed to raise the ocean from its sleep.
Wildly the angry and fierce billows rolled,
While the winds swept onward to the pole.
As she braved the stormy wind's fiercest spite.—
With closed reef fore, and storm stay sail,
She flew before the wild and angry gale!
The winds changed, from the south it blew,
And each instant in fury the hurricane grew;—
Onward then came a huge mountain wave,
Sweeping five of the seamen to their grave!—
And at the same moment the rushing blast
Carried before it the tall main mast.
"Quick! quick! all hands" cried Captain Grey
"Yon broken main mast at once cut away."
Then a sad cry reached them from down below
As the stout ship began to reel to and fro;
And her timbers started with the shock.
Again there came a ringing shriek,
With the dreadful cry "She has sprung a leak!"
The night has fled, and passed away
But the "Amphitrite" almost a wreck now lay.
By her heavy roll on the oceans' swell,
She soon must sink they knew full well.
The boats were fast lowered o'er her side,
The seamen now with many a sigh,
Prepared with heavy hearts to quit
Their noble and their gallant ship!
Now the long boat is by her side
And "we wait for you" an old sailor cried,
"Quick, ere we cut the ropes away!"
"No, no, my lads" cried Captain Grey,
"By my gallant ship I must stay,
Nought shall sever my bark and me
But the wild and foaming sea.
My painful duty bids me to stay,
May the good God speed ye on your way!"
Tears now filled the poor boys' dark eyes,
And with an imploring voice he cried
"Leave, oh! leave the ship dear Captain Grey,
As time cannot admit of further delay.
In the name of your friends I entreat you to fly,
As to stay is madness!—It is but to die!"
"I'll trust to providence, whate'er be my fate;
Oh! look to thyself boy, ere 'tis too late!"
"No, no, dear captain, that must not be,
I would rather live and die with thee."
And then springing to the vessel's side,
Took up an axe, the ropes to divide,—
One moment, and from the battered wreck,
The last of the remaining boats was swept.
Alone on the wide and pathless deep,
Where the albatross its lone watch doth keep,
The flying fish dart through the ocean's spray;
Alone on the deep were the castaways!
From morn to night they strained their eyes,
But no passing ship could they descry,
Or sunny isle, where palms that proudly waved,
Gave rise to hope of their being saved!—
Suddenly Horace one fine morning cried
"Can you see an island on our starboard side?"
And there above the rippling waves,
Wrapt in a veil of golden haze,
A bright and lovely island lay,
Which seemed to smile on the new-born day,
While its palms and bread-fruit trees,
Seemed gracefully waving in the morning breeze.
But o'er it still the mystic haze
Like a beauteous golden glory laid.
And the island which was so bright and fair,
Appeared to tremble in the air!—
Denser, and denser, grew the brilliant veil,
Until the fairy vision had died away.
Drifting, still drifting, on the wide and trackless sea,
Turning their eyes in vain to windward or lee,
And still no sign the lonely ocean bore,
Of a saving ship, or a friendly shore.
To the north and south, east and west,
They sought in vain for a place of rest!
One evening as he leant o'er the vessel's side
He saw a palm branch floating with the tide,
And as he turned to call on Captain Grey
He saw in the distance, some miles away,
A line to the leeward, long and white,
In full relief 'gainst the fading twilight.—
Another mirage it could not be,
As the white line he could plainly see
Unchanged, remaining still upon the deep.
He then roused the captain from his sleep,
And pointed to the strange white line
That lay in the distance, long and fine.
"Ah! Horace, dear boy," cried Captain Grey,
"Yon narrow white line marks the spray
That breaks upon some rock, or coral reef,
Which marks some island of this lonely deep."
Onward drifted the lone "Amphitrite,"
The spray falling in drops of pearly white;—
On to the coral reef the ship was dash'd,
Then there came a loud and fearful crash!—
"Spring, Horace, oh! spring!" cried Captain Grey,
"Our good ship is sinking fast away!"
In an instant, and from the parting wreck,
Poor Horace and the captain quickly leapt.—
Safely by them the shore was reached,
And with heart-felt thanks they knelt on the beach!
"Dear boy, it is time to leave the shore;
And let us try this island to explore."—
After a little while, off they went
On their adventure anxious and intent;
Strolling along by a murmuring stream,
Each wondering at the fair lovely scene,—
Thinking no footstep had e'er trod before
This beauteous island or its glorious shore!
And often turning to have a scan
At the charming scene on either hand,
On went the thoughtful and lone castaways,
Thro' the verdant groves pursuing their way,
Till near a clump of bread-fruit trees
A ruined cottage there they did see!
O'er it the orchids gracefully bent and twined,
A vine around it also flourished and climbed.—
Deserted and sad, there the cottage lay,
Now left and abandoned by time to decay!
Not even a trace could there be seen
Of what the owners once had been,
Or the land from whence they came,—
Nor even a mark or trace of name!
Days, weeks and months now had flown,
And still the castaways remained alone.
Horace, one evening, when near the shore,
Was watching a sea-bird wheel and soar,
Suddenly he saw a white and distant sail;
With joy he then ran to Captain Grey;—
At whose bidding he lit a large wood fire.—
As the smoke was rising in lofty spires
A boat came steering to the shore!
"Thank God! we're saved," they cried, "once more."
"Farewell, farewell, to thee, thou fairy isle,
On the bright Pacific I leave thee to smile!
Farewell, dear isle! though we must part,
Thine image will live long in my heart;
Though I bid thee adieu, fair isle of the sea,
You'll ne'er be forgot by poor Horace Lee!"
With joyful hearts they arrived in the bay—
Where my tale began—there a fine ship lay!
A small boat sped o'er the dancing wave;
To a mother a long lost son it gave.
In a moment, Horace was fondly clasp'd
Once more in his own dear mother's grasp,—
Whilst at a short distance, Captain Grey
Watched the changing look that played
In the keen dark eyes of the castaway.
With a heart so happy he could not speak!
A flush of joy came o'er his mother's cheek;—
With hands and eyes upturned to heaven,
"Thank God!—to me my son He has given!"
To their cottage home they wend their way,
Where mother and son lived many a day!
And still the castaways remained alone.
Horace, one evening, when near the shore,
Was watching a sea-bird wheel and soar,
Suddenly he saw a white and distant sail;
With joy he then ran to Captain Grey;—
At whose bidding he lit a large wood fire.—
As the smoke was rising in lofty spires
A boat came steering to the shore!
"Thank God! we're saved," they cried, "once more."
"Farewell, farewell, to thee, thou fairy isle,
On the bright Pacific I leave thee to smile!
Farewell, dear isle! though we must part,
Thine image will live long in my heart;
Though I bid thee adieu, fair isle of the sea,
You'll ne'er be forgot by poor Horace Lee!"
With joyful hearts they arrived in the bay—
Where my tale began—there a fine ship lay!
A small boat sped o'er the dancing wave;
To a mother a long lost son it gave.
In a moment, Horace was fondly clasp'd
Once more in his own dear mother's grasp,—
Whilst at a short distance, Captain Grey
Watched the changing look that played
In the keen dark eyes of the castaway.
With a heart so happy he could not speak!
A flush of joy came o'er his mother's cheek;—
With hands and eyes upturned to heaven,
"Thank God!—to me my son He has given!"
To their cottage home they wend their way,
Where mother and son lived many a day!